Lyrics:
[50 Cent]
Yeah, F-50
[Chorus - 50 Cent]
As times go by, I twist a lot
Fuck with me and my niggas, somebody gonna die
You think I'm all poinry, cause
you Imma stick to death and beyond
Cooking up in the studio ain't talking about no Filet Mignon
Ain't got no cent but hold the 50/50 shots inside my
Underbelly born of 40 thieves
In whorish harmony
Hammering for the dark and heartless
Harpy, shark and harlot argue breathing room
Do not let the arson
cent to my name like 50
Been keeping busy tryna stack a billi
Niggas talk a lot they ain't fucking with me
New York City, my city litty
If I can make it
niggaz are hard plus we all crazy
Wishing I can be a peaceful man and, hoping that the Lord save me
Fuck a nigga named 50 Cent, you nothing but change
I'm killin' shit
Makin' hits
Order 66
This is it
Time is up
I'm killin' many men
No 50 cent
But I'm wild
I can't get no rest
Up all night
Don't get
Hey, lend me fifty cents for the pay phone.
You remember me. I'm Joe Magarac.
I think I can. I think I can. God damn it, yes, I can.
And if you do, I
Yeah! Migo!
XVL!
Is you mad 'cuz we walk
Around like the secret service? (Huuh?)
We walk around wit' 'em out in public
And we do it on purpose
options
Scared of what I might find
Scared to make the wrong move
I just need the right sign
Bet my last 50 cent I'd get rich or die trying
I can see it in
the bankrolls
Big steppa I'm clumsy
Raised off 50 cent nutties
I was a kid like Cudi
Just tryna get cuddi
Leave them pigs no evidence
I done seen killers snitch
stand on your ten
Everyone thuggin I guess it's a trend
Niggas ain't gettin no money I stamp
Niggas is bitches was born wit a cramp
Niggas ain't gangsta
[50 Cent]
G-Unit, they ain't ready
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
I don't know what you been thinkin', don't know what you been drinkin'
But you get outta
can't fuck with his last joint or the one before it
And he was born to raise hell like them country boys
And if I'm frontin' then you better come
rocks like a fifty cent piece from Terror's twenty
Aimed at your Bentley son
Number one when my shard be blast
Mix with hash, made your heart beat fast
Fi-Di-Di-Di-Dan
Get Em By The Hundred I Aint Talkin Bundles Eitha
Love That Wite Girl, I Got Jungle Fever
[Slick Pulla:]
Ok, Its Blakanomiks Me N Fab Gon Skool Ya
Bullet proof like I'm fifty cent
Keep a hundred rounds aiming at your head
You better not play with me nigga
Write a song, drop a hit, go do a show like
stars made by cinnamon
I feel like 50 Cent, I'm hated, yes, by many men
She look me dead up in my eyes, baby, do you love
Him, or me (or me)
Not one
back and forth with me, not adding up, like abacus
Thought that I could be 50 Cent, but can’t get 'half a buck'//
"do a nigga have, what it takes to be
to the wind trying to know down these pins
He'll keep swinging from the hair above his chin
Till he finds his soul in the fifty cent bin
The price
grimey
Sorta like Muhammad Ali put my faith in fighting
If if I die trying let me leave my kids 50 cent
You a pussy why cause he in ya clique and you
the road with 50 cent
Kidd you still not rich?
But I'mma serve these dimes 'til
I pit that brick
If my life was a disc I'd skip that shit?
Nigga, roaches
the road with 50 cent
Kidd you still not rich?
But I'mma serve these dimes 'til
I hit that brick
If my life was a disc I'd skip that shit?
Nigga, roaches
pounds
I ain't from a softy town
Niggas'll break your bones, crack your faith
Call the doctor, let him put it back in place
Ha ha ha, 50 Cent yeah what
Clap for 'em, clap for 'em, clap for 'em
Hey
I seen Mase do it, I seen Ye do it
X came through, caught lighter fluid
Still I came through it, clap
Discuss these born to do it by 50 cent Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In